The Nightmares
by CaptainKittens
Summary: The fact that Desmond screamed in his sleep was something that had become almost normal, which made them all realise just how messed up this situation truly was. Slight Des/Shaun.


****(Author's Note: Hey guys! This is the first time I've written as any of the modern characters in Assassin's Creed, I hope I don't disappoint!****

**The ending is a little ambiguous, mainly because I was unsure of whether it should be a one-shot or not. I hope you'll forgive me!**

**Please enjoy!)**

The fact that Desmond screamed in his sleep was something that had become almost normal, which made them all realise just how messed up this situation truly was.

The first time it happened, they were all sent into a mad and frenzied panic, thinking that someone or something must have somehow broken into the Sanctuary; it took a few moments for them all to realise that it wasn't anything physical that was plaguing him.

After a while, they all began to pointedly ignore it; as if doing so would somehow mean that it wasn't actually happening. Lucy would sit at her desk and stare at her computer screen, occasionally giving the odd sniff as if she were crying though her face never showed any emotion of the sort. Rebecca would stand up and try to fix any faults she could find with the technology around the large room, if no problems could be found she took to pacing in circles absent-mindedly, pressing her headphones to her ears to block out the cries of suffering that echoed around the room.

It was Shaun who took it upon himself to keep an eye on the newest Assassin and make sure that he never actually hurt himself; he couldn't ask the others to do it, he knew how attached to Desmond they both were.

He would never say so, mainly because it was something that none of them ever spoke of, but Shaun felt a genuine fear at seeing Desmond this way. The young Assassin was always so upbeat whilst awake, so optimistic and happy-go-lucky that to see him reduced to a writhing and screaming heap on the floor every night was incredibly unnerving. Shaun couldn't help but wonder what Desmond was dreaming of that made him scream like that; what could be so bad that it would turn a positive 24 year old into an emotional wreck so quickly and so frequently? It didn't bear thinking about.

Desmond had gone to sleep early that evening to 'relax', vacating into the alcove behind Altair's statue where he now slept; they had never mentioned his late night antics to him, but the hoarseness of his voice and the constant cold sweats seemed to tell him enough. He had insisted on sleeping away from the others in an attempt to stop himself from bothering them when they decided to sleep themselves though it never helped; and as usual, it didn't take long for the screaming to start and echo through into the sanctuary that night.

Immediately, the resolute ignorance began; each one of the other Assassins taking to their usual distracting activities in an attempt to put the guilt out of their minds. After about an hour, Shaun took a deep breath and pushed himself away from his desk; removing his glasses and massaging the spot between his eyes as he listened to the strangled cries of his co-worker aggrievedly. He couldn't take much more of this, as much as he pretended that he disliked Desmond, he couldn't take the fact that the young Assassin was suffering and that he was partly to blame for it; they had to do something, even if it was merely just sitting with the poor bastard and trying to comfort him.

Shaun stood up from his seat and placed his glasses back on; Rebecca looked up from her spot next to the Animus where she was adjusting some of the wiring, her face slightly perplexed. "What's wrong Shaun?"

Lucy looked up too, her eyes full of quiet anguish; Shaun took a deep breath. "I'm going to see if he needs anything."

"Shaun, there's nothing we can do." Lucy said, her voice strained. "All we can do is make sure he doesn't hurt himself and wait for-"

"And wait for what?" Shaun interrupted. "Wait for him to stop screaming so that we can go to sleep? We all know that he'll still be suffering, even if he's stopped crying about it!"

Lucy's expression became more pained. "I know Shaun, but what can we do?"

"Well I for one am sick of sitting around and pretending that it's not happening." He replied angrily. "I know that it can't be helped and that there's not much we can do but that doesn't mean we should sit around and try to not feel guilty about it; we're the ones doing this to him."

He felt a wave of guilt as he saw Lucy's face spasm with pain as she turned her gaze to the floor, her torment only induced further by another loud scream from Desmond. He knew how much more painful this was for her, especially after Subject 16; she had seen it happen before and Shaun knew that her affection for Desmond was making this exceptionally hard.

"Lucy..I'm sorry." He said reluctantly. "I-"

"No, you're right." She interrupted, her voice surprisingly calm as she looked back up at him with shining eyes. "Go, see if he's okay."

Shaun went to speak again but thought better of it, he knew how much she hated showing her vulnerability and trying to comfort her would only make it worse. Instead, he complied to her order and walked towards the Statue of Altair.

His footsteps were drowned out by Desmond's anguished cries as he tentatively walked around the statue and into the dark niche; the light from the Sanctuary hardly penetrated this area and he reached around blindly for the light that he had seen Desmond bring in with him and found it lying on the floor. He flicked it on, blinking against the momentary blindness as his eyes became accustomed to the change in light and looked around the area to find where Desmond was sleeping.

The assassin was slumped in the corner fully dressed with his sleeping bag haphazardly wrapped around him, his eyes were closed but his body reacted as if it were fighting off an attack; a few times, Shaun caught the odd Italian word mixed in with the strangled screams and felt a wave of nausea; what had they done to him?

He knelt down slowly, careful to avoid contact with Desmond's thrashing limbs and put his hand to the man's forehead; he was burning up and there was a mist of perspiration on his forehead, so much for a relaxing sleep. Hesitantly, he moved his hand to Desmond's shoulder and gently shook it.

"Desmond?"

Desmond's screams drowned out Shaun's voice and he flailed again, his limbs reaching out to hit something that wasn't there; Shaun shook him again, a little more urgently.

"Desmond, are you-"

The Assassin's eyes suddenly snapped open and he lurched forward into an upright position, completely breathless. He simply stared at Shaun for a moment with shining eyes and then, without warning, he reached forward and gripped onto him tightly; emitting a loud sob as he pressed his face to the Historian's shoulder.

Awkwardly, Shaun reached around and patted the Assassin on the back; shock being all he could comprehend for a moment. Desmond was crying, and not just a single tear or so; he was full out howling in misery without a care for who might witness it. Not only this, but he was seeking comfort from the one person who until recently, had treated him with a strong disdain; whatever these nightmares were, Shaun thought to himself darkly, they must be beyond comprehension.

He was at a complete loss for what to do. Normally, he would not have permitted this kind of behaviour from anyone, let alone Desmond; but as he listened to the man cry miserably onto his shoulder, he couldn't bring himself to say anything to make him let go.

They sat that way for a small while, the only sound being Desmond's muffled sobs as he clung to Shaun with an alarming strength; his whole body trembling convulsively. A few times, Shaun thought of speaking but had no idea what he could possibly say; how could he make this situation better? Almost automatically, he felt himself relax a little and wrapped his other arm around the newest Assassin's shoulder to pull him closer into the hug; trying to put his unsaid feelings into the gesture, that he was so sorry for what they were doing to him.

After what seemed like hours, Desmond's trembling began to cease and his sobs faded until he was completely silent; Shaun thought for a moment that he had perhaps fallen asleep again but was proven wrong when the Assassin finally sat up, his face streaked with tears.

"I-I..." His voice was thick with emotion and he couldn't quite catch Shaun's eye; he looked embarrassed as if he had suddenly realised how he had behaved and felt ashamed of it.

"Feeling better?" Shaun asked with a weak stab at humour, not wanting to embarrass the man further.

Surprisingly, Desmond gave a small, watery chuckle; wiping his eyes on the back of his hand and looking anywhere but at his co-worker. "Actually, yeah. S-sorry about that."

"Desmond..." Shaun trailed off, concern and guilt rushing back to him. "Are you alright?"

"Oh yeah." Desmond said sarcastically with a small laugh. "I'm just great."

Normally, Shaun would have snapped back with something as equally sarcastic and probably much more rude but he refrained; the guilt in his chest reminding him that the guy had every right to be angry and upset. His response was almost automatic "I'm sorry Desmond, I really am."

Desmond finally looked at him, his expression bemused underneath the tear streaks. "Sorry? Why?"

It was Shaun's turn to look confused. "Because of what this is doing to you." He sighed, inwardly correcting himself. "Because of what we're doing to you."

Desmond shook his head. "No, Shaun." He heaved a large sigh. "You're not doing this to me, nobody is forcing me to plug myself in to that machine every day; I do it because I know that I have to."

"But we-"

"You haven't done anything." He gave a weak smile. "I have a mind of my own, you know."

"You could have fooled me." Shaun muttered good-humouredly, returning the other's smile; Desmond laughed, the hoarseness of his voice prominant.

"Thanks Shaun." He replied lightly, rubbing his eyes again and taking a deep breath; Shaun noticed that his hands were still shaking.

"Desmond?" He asked hesitantly, should he ask? Or would it upset the man further?

Desmond looked up again. "Hm?"

"What do you dream about?" Shaun asked quickly, hoping that his prying wouldn't cause the Assassin in break down again.

Desmond sighed, looking away from the Historian and into the dark space ahead of him. "You mean, what is it that makes me scream like I'm being murdered every night?" He gave a small unamused laugh and looked at his shaking hands; Shaun stayed silent, regretting the question. When Desmond spoke again, his voice barely a whisper.

"When I was a kid and my parents told me that I was going to be an Assassin one day, I didn't want to believe them. I didn't want to be a killer, to take away someone else's life without a thought for how hurt I was inflicting, or how many other lives I was damaging in the process." He heaved a large sigh. "But when I'm in the animus, I have no choice. I know I'm not actually the one who killed them but it still feels like I did; so many people die because of me and it tears me up."

He turned to look at the Historian again. "That's what I dream about, I dream about every life I take away in that machine and it scares the shit out of me."

Shaun felt at a complete loss for words, the guilt in his chest aching heavily as he looked at the shaking man in front of him. "Desmond..."

"Don't apologise." Desmond interrupted, giving the other a brief smile. "It's not your fault. I just...need to get used to the idea."

"Nobody is expecting you to get used to it." Shaun replied morosely. "In any case, it's not really something you can get used to."

Desmond sighed and looked at the floor again. "Shaun?"

"Yes?"

"Can you..." He grimaced for a moment before looking up at the other Assassin again. "Can you not tell the others about it? I don't want them to worry."

Shaun gave the man a half-smile. "Desmond, they're already worried about you."

"I know but, I'd just rather keep this between us...if that's okay?" Desmond's voice wobbled with emotion and he turned his eyes to the ceiling, a small, embarrassed smile forming on his lips. "God, I'm a wreck."

"It's perfectly understandable, you're under a lot of pressure; it takes it's toll after a while." Shaun replied; tentatively, he reached forward and placed his hand on the Assassin's shoulder comfortingly; wanting to comfort him without being too overbearing.

Desmond took yet another deep breath and suddenly smiled with a real sincerity. "Thanks Shaun."

"For what?"

"For being so nice to me, and for letting me cry on you like a girl." He gave a small and genuine laugh. "Though I am a little worried that you'll never let me live it down."

"I resent that Desmond, even if it is true." Shaun replied teasingly, happy that the Assassin was acting more like his regularly, happy self. "You're welcome though, anytime mate."

Desmond raised his eyebrows with a hint of surprise at Shaun's response, but said nothing about it; instead he reached forward and gave the other Assassin a friendly punch on the shoulder. "Come on, I doubt I'm gonna get any more sleep for now. Might as well go bug the others for a while."

He stood up quickly, brushing off his jeans and regaining his balance as his legs shook slightly underneath him. "You coming?"

Shaun nodded and stood up too, his mind still back on their conversation. He had never seen that side of Desmond before; though the man had always been quite open and honest about himself, Shaun had never quite bothered to try to get to know him, assuming that he was merely an air-headed test subject who lacked any depth. It took a lot to admit it to himself, but Shaun knew that his first judgment had been wrong; there was a lot more to Desmond than meets the eye and it was a pity that it had taken an emotional outburst in order for the Historian to see it.

Still, he was glad that he had seen it; perhaps now it could pave the way to some sort of friendship between them, or perhaps something else.

Shaun flicked out the small light as they walked out of the alcove, smiling coyly to himself.


End file.
